Upon dawn, the cliffside villages of the Sylha were so far above that they didn't appear to be villages at all. From down below the tree line, no one could make out what was hanging overhead. Vines? With enough fortitude to watch the skies (and who has time to watch cliffs all day when there are duties to complete), Sap might have seen the hunters diving from the treetops for a day's work. This was not the case, and it would be a few hours before they would cross paths. Still, she knew that something was amiss with this part of the forest. Her tribe had not yet come out this far into the forests, but they were beginning to. The root from this forest's trees would sometimes sprout the wrong way and provide just enough for them to sprout outward and retrieve samples. As of late, tracking these samples had been an endeavor. She was certain that the trees were becoming less and less responsive to their calls. Where the trees closer to the village would readily shed their vines, it was as if these didn't speak the same languages; She did try to beckon them, but whether speaking casually, sternly, even telling them a joke, they seemed to be more interested in the conversations of other trees than anything she had to offer them. Why were they so anti-social? She spent hours wandering through and trying to find a more talkative one in this acre... Unfortunately, they all seemed to be more preoccupied with the idea of what they were seeing above. How strange that these trees would be focused over their tops, when their roots were so obviously trying to drink from the soil below. What could be more important than taking up water? It wasn't even a particularly intense Sun today... what could be bothering them so? Her answer came in echoed whispers she had to remind herself weren't the trees themselves. Trees spoke in your fingers, like feeling the hum of a drum. These echoes were in the air. (We'll need to add in wildlife for this, as it seems pretty abrupt that they would just suddenly show and be attacked. It also sets the precedent that animal life aren't disturbed by the Earth tribes) With the sound of a strong exhale, and breaking branches from the tree tops, she watched them plunge down and swoop the deer away as quickly as they'd descended. Were they a different tribe? How did they swing without vines? It was as if they'd ridden the air itself. "SYLHA!" she heard shouted from above. It echoed now, not simply a whisper but a conversation from all directions, with only one word. "Sylha?" "SYYYLHA!" "Syl..ha?" "Sylha... Sylha?... hahahah; ah. Sylha!" Was it the same word, again and again? They seemed to use it in different tones, but always that same word: Sillah? They darted down once more, this time only one of them. He looked to be younger than her, but she couldn't be sure. He was very thin, his arms were like skinnier versions of a Rockflingers. His limbs looked very long, and his face was covered in Daisy colored hair, tied around and upward into his head. "Sylha?" he asked, his head tilting to one side. "Sillah?" Sap asked. The Daisy-haired boy laughed lightly, shaking his head. "SIIIILLL...." and then, almost as if breathing out the second half "haaaaah". Then he was gone into the tree tops again. Another round of chants came "SYLHA!" "SYYYYLLLLhaaaahahahaha" followed by more laughter and one echoing voice that sounded annoyed "Ah, Syl"